The National Geographic Magazine
rapidly along the shallow water near the river
bank. The other bank was too far away
to be seen, but I am told it is visited by the
same tidal wave.
As the bore drew abreast, I was about
half a mile from the bank and a quarter
of a mile from shallow water. For at least
400 yards in front of the first waves all of
the water had been drawn off the mud flat
by the receding tide, leaving it bare and expos
ing the waterlogged and embedded debris
which covers the river bottom.
Words cannot express the awesomeness and
power of this bore. The first wave seemed
to be about nine feet high. It was white and
breaking like a surf roller all along its upper
five feet. The whole wave seemed filled with
logs and branches. Long trunks were being
hurled into the air and somersaulting back.
The sound, even at my distance from the bank,
was extremely loud.
Behind the first wave came two smaller
ones, about 200 yards apart.
In the deeper water, where the Sea Fever
was sailing, the bore took the form of three
long, high swells which, though large, were
not dangerous. As soon as the waves had
passed, the current was flowing up the river
almost immediately at full flood strength. I
hurriedly turned in toward the bank to wait
out the flood tide and found about a fathom
of water over a bank that had not had more
than a foot of water covering it 10 minutes
before.
The whole thing, which came and passed
within a few minutes, gave an impression of
immense and terrible power. The natives
are extremely afraid of being caught in shal
low water when the pororoca comes roaring
up the river.
I can easily believe that a boat, even a fairly
large one, in less than two fathoms when the
tidal wave came might be in serious danger.
If it were well battened down, it might not
be swamped, but probably would be badly
battered by the logs carried forward on the
crest of the wave.
The Open Atlantic-and Seasickness
On December 13 I sailed out into the Atlan
tic on the ebb tide. A very heavy onshore
wind was blowing; only once in the next six
and a half months did I encounter stronger
winds, excepting short-lived squalls.
My plan was to sail about 60 miles out,
enter the South Equatorial Current, and sail
in that stream parallel to the coast to Port of
Spain, Trinidad, staying offshore, out of sight
of land, the whole distance.
The wind was from the east-northeast, while
the land trended north. The strong current,
ebbing almost directly against the wind, cre
ated a nasty chop. The Sea Fever never
worked too well to windward, and I found it
very difficult to get away from the coast.
The situation was further complicated by
the fact that I immediately became seasick
and remained so for the next four days. I was
forced to reef my mainsail right away and
during the afternoon took it down completely,
sailing under only the jib and mizzen.
Pump Manned Every Half-hour
Once well out in the chop I found that the
Sea Fever leaked very badly. She hadn't
leaked much in the river because her motion
had been reasonably smooth; however, in the
ocean the constant plunging soon loosened
the calking of the fittings and the coaming,
admitting a great deal of water. Occasional
seas came over the top, soaking me thoroughly.
During the whole trip to Trinidad I found
it necessary to pump every half-hour or so.
For three weeks I was never able to sleep
more than an hour at a time, and rarely was
it that long between the times when I pumped.
The first day was really a nightmare. The
temptation to turn and sail downwind to the
shelter of the river and the hospitality of new
found friends was always present. However,
by nightfall I had worked at least ten miles
out, for land was no longer visible.
Setting the rudder so that the boat would
sail as close to the wind as was possible under
only the jib and mizzen, I expected her to
sail more or less parallel to the coast until
morning while I tried to catch some sleep.
It continued to be very rough, but the seas
were somewhat larger and the Sea Fever rode
more easily.
Everything was adrift inside and I was
too sick to lash anything very well. There
was little room in which to sleep; I could only
curl up with my legs around the centerboard
trunk and my head under the after thwart.
A few minutes after I pumped out the boat
each time, water would begin sloshing up over
the floor boards. After about 30 minutes it
usually began to strike my face and thus
awakened me to pump-endlessly, it seemed.
In the morning I found that I was only three
miles offshore and within sight of the river
mouth I had left 24 hours before!
Each of the succeeding three days was the
same as the first-constant tacking away from
the coast, regular pumping, and the agony of
seasickness with nothing to retch.
On the morning of the fourth day out I iden
tified Maraca Island and found that I had
traveled less than 100 miles. The wind slack-
256